a book, a finger keeping her place. Though I had seen her twice, first at the depot and then at the sheriff’s office, I had not noticed how pretty she was. Like her older sister, she was dressed in black.
“You have a cowlick.”
“Sadie!” Mrs. Wright said.
I looked down. Sadie was gazing up at me, clutching her doll.
I brushed at my hair with my hand. “The cap,” I said. “It seems to do it.”
She nodded. “I know,” she said. “Dolly’s will, too, if she sleeps on it funny. See?” She held the doll up and pointed to its forehead.
“Yes,” I said. “I see.”
“Harriet, why don’t you take Sadie in the bedroom so Mr. Mears and I can talk,” Mrs. Wright said.
Harriet nodded and moved toward the door. She waited until Sadie joined her, then took her by the shoulders and guided her from the room.
Mrs. Wright sat in the Morris chair by the fire and folded her hands on her lap. I sat in a ladder-back chair facing her. “I’m worried sick, Mr. Mears,” she said. “Sadie’s all right. I don’t think she grasps what has happened. But Harriet hasn’t spoken a word since yesterday. She won’t eat a bite. Nothing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “It must be terrifying to lose her mother this way. Maybe a person of faith?”
“The minister at St. John’s is stopping by this afternoon. He delivered a lovely eulogy for Momma.” Mrs. Wright’s hands were clutching the fabric of her skirt. “She wants to live here, Mr. Mears. I’m their sister and I love the girls dearly, but it’s just not possible.” She lifted her hands. “The house is so small. We’re just starting out. It wouldn’t be fair to George.” Her chin trembled. She pulled a kerchief from the wrist of her shirtwaist and touched it to her eyes. She folded it in her hands on her lap.
“Is there anyone else?” I asked.
“Oh, Harriet’s named for her grandmother, and they’ve always been close. Grandmother has a beautiful place on King Street, not far from where she and Grandfather ran the grocery, but Grandfather’s gone now and she’s in her eighties. She’s done everything she could. She even purchased the house on Washington Street for Momma and Daddy, gave it to them. She’s done everything you could expect. If Harriet asked, she would take the girls in an instant, because she loves them so, but she’s not well, Mr. Mears. Even with servants, she couldn’t manage two young girls. I don’t know why Harriet won’t listen to reason.”
She paused.
“Daddy was not the best of fathers, Mr. Mears. His drinking made everything difficult. For everyone.”
“I understand, Mrs. Wright. In college I was a member of the Temperance Club. I’ve kept my pledge.”
“God bless you, Mr. Mears.” She looked up at the daguerreotypes on the mantel. “Our uncle Lewter is a wealthy man. He has a successful business in Norfolk,” she said. “You probably know it. They sell big machines to the shipyards. I don’t understand it, but George, my husband, could explain it for you. Uncle Lewter and Mary have a family themselves. A little boy, Floyd, and a girl, Maggie, who’s almost exactly Harriet’s age. It will be the best situation.”
I nodded. “Ma’am, do you believe that Virginia Christian is responsible for your mother’s death?”
“No,” she said. “I just don’t see how that could happen. Momma visited with us Sunday a week ago. She told me about a missing skirt, that she expected Virgie to pay her for it. Momma was always missing things. She had too much on her shoulders. Alone, with two young girls to raise. She wore herself out. I’m sure she just misplaced things. Whenever she thought something’d been stolen, it would show up somewhere. But she was cross all the time, and no wonder.”
“You said your mother never quarreled with Virgie?”
“Oh, my word, no. Whenever Momma confronted her about something, Virgie looked scared more than anything. I think Momma frightened her to death. She’d cringe at the sound of Momma’s voice. Virgie never said anything back to her, no matter how hateful Momma was. And she always was sweet with us girls. Virgie’s just a girl herself. I remember her talking about school, how she liked it. But she had to quit when her mother got sick. I don’t think she could really read or write a word.
“It was funny how she had to have things arranged just so when she was working. Ironing board right-to-left. Clothes basket to the left of the ironing board. White things on top. Colored things on the bottom. Two irons on the stove, one on the stand. Once I borrowed an iron from the stove to touch up a skirt hem and you’d have thought the house was afire, the commotion Virgie made when she missed it. But she was a worker. Lord knows she earned every penny Momma paid her.”
“Did you ever have occasion to speak with Mr. Cahill? The boarder?”
“Oh, I think a couple of Sundays, when I visited Momma,” Mrs. Wright said. “Sometimes he’d bring fresh fish or oysters from the docks, and Momma would cook everyone a nice Sunday dinner. He was very pleasant. Always a gentleman.”
“Was there ever any problem with his payments?”
“Oh, no. I’m sure Momma would’ve told me.”
“He’s quite a handsome man.”
“Harriet certainly thinks so,” she said. “And Momma, too, for that matter.” She smiled, and looked down at her hands. “At least, she did think so.”
“Mrs. Wright, you’ve been very generous with your time. I’d better go. I’m very sorry for your family’s loss. I will remember your mother in my prayers.”
“Thank you, Mr. Mears.”
I stood to leave. She offered her hand, and I shook it.
“Ma’am, does Harriet like to read verse?”
“Why, yes, ever since she was a little girl.”
“I’ll see if can find a volume for her. Maybe it will help her pass the time.”
“That’s very kind, Mr. Mears.”
Outside the air had warmed with the sun. The blossoms of the crocuses were open. I had started for the cottage gate when I heard the front door behind me.
“Mr. Mears!” Mrs. Wright called from the stoop. “You forgot your cap. Here, Sadie, take it.”
The girl scampered down the steps and ran to me. She held up the cap.
“Thank you,” I said. Her eyes were blue as robins’ eggs. She looked at me for a moment.
“Momma went to see the angels,” she said. She smiled. Then she ran back inside the house.
By the time I got back into Hampton it was getting close to deadline. I still had time to swing by the jail before going to the paper. In the square between the courthouse fence and the jail there was a crowd. Except for a pack of colored boys running footraces at the edge of the square, the people were white. Clouds had gathered and were spitting sleet. The pellets stung my face.
I
